


burst blood vessels & bruised knuckles

by Maffasaur



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-22 13:24:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2509340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maffasaur/pseuds/Maffasaur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chaos.</p><p>It was fucking chaos.</p><p>There were burger wrappers, empty candy packets, vegetable scraps, apple cores and empty ice tea bottles strewn all through the lounge room. It was like a hurricane had hit the inside of the apartment. Gavin had to step through the trash gingerly, lest he stand on a hidden bag of vomit beneath the crap and have it burst. It was getting so much worse, so fast.</p><p>(Also known as the one where Michael is bulimic.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	burst blood vessels & bruised knuckles

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warnings for bulimia/vomit/death mentions.

 

It was fucking chaos.

 

There were burger wrappers, empty candy packets, vegetable scraps, apple cores and empty ice tea bottles strewn all through the lounge room. It was like a hurricane had hit the inside of the apartment. Gavin had to step through the trash gingerly, lest he stand on a hidden bag of vomit beneath the crap and have it burst. It was getting so much worse, so fast.

 

“Michael?” He called through the apartment cautiously. A tiny moan emitted from down the hall and Gavin headed for it immediately.

 

Michael was slouched over the toilet. When Gavin got closer, it was clear that the toilet was clogged with vomit. The liquid – it could barely be called liquid – was starting to become bloody and dark.

 

It had been _two_ days since Gavin had been here, how the hell did it get so much fucking worse in two days?  Michael was near unconscious and when Gavin pushed his dark hair from his eyes, his skin was pale and slick with sweat. There was a slight yellow tinge to his skin. Gavin gagged as the smell hit him. There was a gurgle from within his boyfriend and when he turned to throw up, the only thing that came out was blood in a drooling bile mixture.

 

Seemingly Michael no longer had control over his body and this led Gavin to think that he’d possibly overdosed. Gavin remained calmed and grabbed Michaels’ chin gently to tilt his head upwards. “What did you take?”  He asked urgently.

 

Large brown eyes met his. Michaels’ pupils were blown and in one eye, the entire sclera was red. It seemed that the man had managed to burst a blood vessel in his eye from his heavy heaving.

 

“I just- I had to get it out, Gavin.” Michael gasped out. He lifted a hand to his mouth and wiped away some of the spit and it was then Gavin noticed that his knuckles were bruised and scratched up.

 

This was so fucking bad.

 

“What did you take?” Gavin repeated forcibly.

 

“I had a bottle of Ipecac,” Michael managed to rasp out.

 

“A _bottle_? Jesus Christ, it only takes two tablespoons of it to make you toss your lunch.” He gestured to the bruising on Michaels’ hand. “How’d this happen? This is from purging. Why the hell do you need to purge with your fingers if you had a bottle of Ipecac?”

 

“We ran out of food. I went out to buy more and I had to puke on the way home. I- I ate three gallons of ice-cream and I had to get it _out_. It was so fucking heavy inside of me and I needed to get it out,” Gavin felt like crying at the words. He went to get a glass of water and when he returned, Michael was passed out.

 

God, Gavin was so sick of this.

 

He was sick of coming home from business trips to find the apartment in ruin, to find Michael like this. The disorder ate more money than either of them could afford and the two of them were quickly going into debt. They had been borrowing money from both of their parents. Gavin was too embarrassed to let anybody else know about what was happening money-wise, even though he knew Geoff help the two out.

 

Dutifully, Gavin cleaned his boyfriend up and gingerly wiped away the dried vomit from the corners of his mouth. When he ran his fingers through Michaels’ hair – more to his own comfort than the unconscious mans’ –he winced when several strands of the dark hair stuck to his hands.

 

On the outside, Michael was starting to look more broken than whole.

 

His hair was starting to fall out more frequently, he would bruise from the simplest of things and his nail beds were more often blue than pink. Baggy clothes hid the bones that were starting to protrude from the guys at work, but every night when Gavin traced his fingers over his sleeping boyfriends’ skin, he could feel them.

 

When Michael was awake, Gavin couldn’t get close.

The dark haired man wouldn’t let himself be cuddled. Loving touches were easily out of the question. They hadn’t had sex in months and Gavin thought if they were to attempt it now, Michael would break beneath his fingers.

 

The whimpers of pain during the night when Michael lay on his stomach because his ribs would dig into the bed made Gavin want to cry. The British man dread to even _think_ about what Michaels’ insides would be like. When he’d starting researching bulimia, he’d read horror stories of acidic burns in the esophagus from bile and stomachs bursting from binges.

 

What if one day Gavin came home from a trip, or even a goddamn day at work and Michael was in this very position, but dead? What if one day Michaels’ heart just gave out? He wasn’t going to let his boyfriend kill himself slowly right in front of him.

 

~

 

It took twenty minutes for Michael to regain consciousness.

By then, Gavin had managed to carry the man into the lounge room and prop him up on the couch.

 

“Hey, hey, you okay? Can you hear me alright, Michael?” Gavin asked worriedly. Michael blinked up at him.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered. Gavin handed him a bottle of water and watched silently as his boyfriend struggled to get it down. Each sip was painful and burned Michaels’ throat.

“You need to stop this, Michael. You need to stop abusing yourself like this. You’re _killing_ yourself,”

 

“I’m fine,”

 

Gavin grabbed his phone roughly and slid the camera onto screen. He thrust the device in front of Michaels’ face. “Look at your eye, Michael. You’ve burst blood vessels in your eyes from puking.” Michael stared in shock at the phone before breaking down in tears.

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-“

 

“We can fix this. We can send you to a treatment centre and you can get better, but you have to _commit_ to this.” Gavin pleaded, taking Michaels’ hands in his own. The two made eye contact and Michael could feel his heart breaking when he looked into those green eyes that loved him so dearly.

“I’ll do it,” He whispered, resting his forehead against Gavins.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

 

~

 

Michael held onto his promise.

 

It took six months, three weeks and twenty days, but he held onto his promise.

 

The first month at the treatment centre was difficult. Michael refused to eat for two weeks until his doctors put him under and inserted a nasogastric tube into his nose. The tube itched and was painful. To the surprise of nobody, it made it only a few hours before it was yanked forcibly out of his nose.

 

Close to two months, the tube came out. Michael still struggled with keeping his food down – especially when they switched him back to solids – but he managed it. Every weekend that Gavin came to visit, it was the look of pride on his face that gave Michael incentive to continue fighting the eating disorder. His nail beds were returning to their soft baby pink colour and there was colour returning to the dark haired mans’ face. Gavin even got him to smile a little.

 

At four months, there was a relapse.

 

Six months was the point where his doctors happily told Gavin that Michael could start outpatient treatment.

 

The struggle wasn’t over and the eating disorder never really went away, but Gavin was simply happy to have the man he loved back. He was there to support Michael when he needed it. The older man stopped shying away from Gavin when he felt upset and found that everything was easier when he talked about it.

 

They both knew that Michael would never be one hundred percent okay, but they were content with taking the baby steps to try and get as close as possible.

 

After all, baby steps were just fine.


End file.
